Illogical Choices
by DramaLexy
Summary: As a boy, Spock was told his father married his mother because it was a logical decision. Logic would have little to do with his own choice. COMPLETE
1. Prologue

TITLE: Illogical Choices

AUTHOR: DramaLexy

SUMMARY: As a boy, Spock was told his father married his mother because it was a logical decision. But logic would have little to do with his own choice.

DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I do not own Star Trek - any incarnation of it.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Right now, I have a plotline laid out that takes place about a year after the end of the movie. But if the mood strikes, this could easily turn into a multi-part story that spans lots of different periods in time. So it's up to you guys as the readers to give me ideas on where you want this to go.

Also, I usually don't post stories without having finished the whole story first, but I'm breaking my own rule for this fic. So reviews are key in motivating me to finish. :-)

* * *

He noticed her the very first day of class. Her presence in his linguistics course was somewhat unexpected, given the fact that he'd seen her only two hours earlier in the Introductory Vulcan class that he'd been forced to teach (the normal instructor was on maternity leave.) He'd NEVER had a first-year in his Advanced Phonology class before.

"Cadet Uhura," Spock called her over at the end of the lecture. "I believe there has been an error with your schedule. First year students have not completed the pre-requisite courses for this class."

She looked down. "I know. I wanted to audit the course."

"It would be illogical to observe my lectures without the necessary understanding of previously taught material."

"I'll understand it," she promised him.

"Forgive me if your word alone is not adequate proof."

"What do I need to do to convince you?" she asked. His head shot up – she'd asked the question in Vulcan. "Tell me and I will do it," she added, switching to Romulan.

"My initial conclusion was correct," he commented. "There IS an error with your schedule. May I ask why you are in introductory language courses?"

"I never had official instruction. I learned Vulcan and Romulan on my own, and I'm working on Andorian this semester. But since I didn't have courses with grades on my transcript, my advisor wouldn't allow me to take the more advanced courses for those languages. I'm taking the pre-requisites for your course right now, but…I think I can handle the material."

The young cadet was clearly unique; if she had the drive to undertake such a rigorous course of study, then it would be illogical for him to dissuade her. "You may remain in the class," he decided. "You will complete all of the required assignments and tests. If you are able to pass the final examination with a grade of an A or better, I will ensure you are given credit for the course."

She nodded. "Thank you, Commander."

Four months later, as Spock graded his final exams, he had to fight to keep a smile from crossing his face. Cadet Nyota Uhura had gotten the only perfect score.

* * *

TBC...


	2. Chapter 1

She would surprise him many more times over the next few years as their relationship progressed. In the days after his mother's death, he wondered how he could have survived without her. Nyota had a quiet strength and a calming presence that he learned to rely deeply on.

Spock would have been surprised if his own relationship did not cause him to consider his parents'. As a boy, he'd asked his father why Sarek had chosen his mother and was told it was a logical decision. This answer had puzzled Spock greatly - surely his human mother had needed more than that. Did his father lie to her to ensure her happiness and security? Or had she somehow adapted to what her husband could and could not offer? If the latter were true, did Spock have any hope of finding a woman to do the same?

In the wake of Amanda Grayson's death, Sarek's admission that he had indeed loved his wife had only made Spock more conflicted. Had his mother known? The idea that she'd died without being certain of that truth was disturbing. Would he be able to do any better for Nyota? It certainly seemed like their lives had been heading in that direction. When their relationship had began, neither had ever imagined that they'd end up together on the same ship - the odds certainly weren't in their favor - but it had happened. Adjusting to life on the Enterprise had taken time - it was a smaller-than-you-would-think vessel with a crew that often had nothing better to do besides assignments than gossip. Nyota didn't care to know how often her personal life was the topic of someone else's discussion – she had no doubt that one James T. Kirk was generally the one who got the rumor mill buzzing.

"Another day of astronomical surveys down," the Captain commented as he joined her in heading for the turbolift at the end of a shift on the bridge.

"Two more to go," she replied before glancing back at the ship's command center just before the doors closed. She was surprised to see that someone other than Spock had taken Jim's place in command for the graveyard shift. The night shift fell to whatever bridge officer got the short straw, and Spock was normally exempt, but had finally taken a turn that week.

"Looking for someone?" Kirk asked, having read her expression. Nyota hated that it was so easy for him to do.

"Wasn't he supposed to be on duty?" she asked after deciding that playing dumb wasn't worth it. With Spock on the night shift, she'd been living on an opposite schedule to his for the past few days. It made for lonely nights and if someone had put an end to it, she wanted to know!

"He was supposed to be," Kirk reported with a mischievous grin. "Claimed illness...If you didn't know, then does that mean he's not out of the doghouse?"

She frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I was surprised when he requested nights in the first place."

"REQUESTED nights?" she repeated.

"Yeah. I figured you were having 'issues' but was told not to ask."

"Since when has that ever stopped you?" she retorted. He pretended to grab a knife that was stuck in his shoulder.

"Ouch, that cut deep."

She sincerely doubted that was true, but at the moment she was more concerned with Spock. The turbolift doors opened on her deck and she stepped out, barely remembering to call, "Goodnight, Jim," before heading toward Spock's quarters.

Kirk chuckled to himself as the doors snapped back shut. "If he wasn't already in the doghouse, he is now," he muttered to himself.

Had Nyota heard him, she would have agreed. If Spock wasn't already dying from something, she was going to kill him.

* * *

There was no immediate answer when she rang the door chime, and for a moment she felt bad. Maybe he really was terribly sick somehow and was sleeping? As she pressed the button for a second time, she told herself that if he didn't answer now, she'd leave and try again in the morning. However, she faintly heard his voice say, "Enter," and the doors opened.

Instantly, she knew something was amiss. Spock seemed agitated as he sat in the corner of his darkened quarters, attempting to meditate. She'd never seen him struggling so hard to maintain a hold on his emotions. "Are you all right?" she asked, moving over to him and gently laying a hand on his shoulder. She was surprised when he jerked away like she'd burned him.

"I am fine," he tightly replied, eyes trained on the carpet. "I request that you please leave; I must meditate."

"No, something's wrong," she countered. "Jim said you were sick? Does Dr. McCoy know?"

"No."

"You should go to sickbay."

"They cannot help," he refused. "Please, I must meditate."

Nyota was quickly going from concerned to panicked. "Why can't they help? What's wrong, Spock? Talk to me!" He was silent. "Why did you ask for the night shift this week? You're avoiding me?"

"I had to," he answered after a pause, his voice strained.

"I don't understand. Please, let me help you."

Spock glanced up at her, but quickly realized that was a mistake. Unable to control his impulses, he sat forward, his lips meeting hers in a crushing kiss. It was obvious that Nyota was surprised – off-balanced, they both tumbled over to lie on the floor – but she didn't resist. His body screamed for more, but he used every drop of his willpower to pull himself away. "I'm sorry," he quietly said.

She sat up slowly. "Don't be. What's going on?"

Spock sighed, and she swore that his cheeks took on a slightly green tinge as he blushed. "It…it is called Pon Farr."

She frowned, unfamiliar with the Vulcan term. "What is that?"

"A neurochemical imbalance that manifests every seven years…More than once, while I was both a student and an instructor at the Academy, I was able to end the pon farr through intense meditation. This time, I am finding it much more difficult. I do not believe I have much time before the plak tow will begin."

"Blood fever," Nyota translated aloud. She wasn't sure what it meant, but figured it wasn't good. "What else can you do?"

"Traditionally, it is ended through meditation or...joining with a mate. Since I was never linked as a child, meditation was a necessary treatment."

"But you said it's not working…Why didn't you come to me?"

"Pon farr is a private matter on Vulcan. It is not discussed openly with others."

Nyota raised an eyebrow. "Please correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought I was more than just 'someone' to you."

"You are," he assured her, but hesitated before speaking again. "At my age, the selection of a mate would normally be considered a proposal of marriage."

She shook her head. "I don't care about Vulcan rules of etiquette at the moment, I just care about you and making sure you're all right. We can figure the rules out later."

He felt a pang of guilt; she was always there for him, whether he deserved it or not. "I don't want to force you into this," Spock countered. "I…I don't want to use you."

She just smiled. "Then make it worth my while."

* * *

TBC...

insert your own smut here


	3. Chapter 2

As Nyota woke up late the following morning, it took her a moment to realize where she was – Spock's bed, not her own. A smile crossed her face as she realized she didn't even remember making it into the bed the previous night.

"Good morning," his voice rumbled by her ear and she had to suppress a shiver.

"Morning," she replied as she turned to look at him. "How do you feel?"

"Much better…Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me, Spock. I wish that you would have come to me in the beginning."

He sighed. "I am…uncomfortable with my dependence on you."

She frowned. "Why?"

"Because I do not believe it is an even trade."

"Who said that it had to be?" she questioned with a little smile.

"Logically, that is what a relationship should be."

She kissed him. "There's nothing logical about love."

He considered that for a long moment. There had been few things in his life that he couldn't somehow fit into a model of logic. Anything that would not conform was unsettling to deal with. "Would you want me to ask you to marry me?" he quietly asked.

"It would depend on your reasons. We said in the beginning that we would take things one day at a time, see where it led. If you asked because it was really what you wanted, not just out of some sense of obligation, then I would say yes."

There was a pause, and she began to think that he didn't truly want to ask. Maybe she was wrong about how he saw their relationship. Maybe it was too much.

She started to get out of bed, to go retrieve her clothes, but Spock caught her arm. "Nyota," he finally spoke up, "Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

* * *

They both decided to follow human culture with respect to their engagement and wedding. Spock was pretty certain that his marriage to a human would not be well received by anyone on the Vulcan colony except for his father. Ostracized half-breed or not, his civilization was struggling to survive and he was certain that many of the elders were already not happy with his decision to remain with Starfleet.

"Is there a period of time we must wait?" he asked Nyota as they sat together in her quarters that evening after dinner. For all the time he'd spent on Earth, he was just now realizing how many of their social norms he still did not know.

She smiled. "No. Have you ever heard of eloping?"

He considered the word. "Is that what you would wish to do?"

"No!" she replied with a laugh. "We can wait. I want our friends and families there."

They both looked up as the communication system chirped. "Kirk to Lieutenant Uhura."

She sighed. "I swear he must check internal sensors to know just when to interrupt," she muttered. "Uhura here, Captain."

"I need you in the shuttlebay; I'm putting together a team for a mission and could use a translator."

She nodded. "On my way."

* * *

As Nyota was quickly briefed upon her arrival in the shuttlebay, Enterprise had picked up transmissions from a nearby Tellarite freighter that wished to trade for some parts to make repairs. The ship was trying to make its way back to Tellar Prime and sending a shuttle to rendezvous would keep both it and the Enterprise from having to deviate from their current paths.

"You know," Nyota told Kirk as she climbed into the shuttle behind Scotty and two other members of the engineering crew, "You could send Ensign Raymond. He could use the experience."

He rolled his eyes. "If I sent Ensign Raymond, we'd probably end up at war with the Tellarites."

She laughed. "He's getting better; I've been working with him."

"Yeah, well, I'll believe that when I see it, but I'm not sending him out without backup. Be safe."

"Aye, Captain."

* * *

The following morning, Kirk caught up with Spock in the mess before their shifts. "So, how much trouble did you get in the other night?" he asked his friend before taking a bite from the half-finished apple in his hand.

"I have nothing to say about the matter."

"Hey, I'm discrete," he tried to protest.

"You do not even know the meaning of the word," Spock countered. "In the future, when you are asked to keep something to yourself, please do so. This would foremost mean that you not tell Uhura."

Kirk smirked. "So you WERE in trouble."

"That is not my point."

"But it's a much more entertaining topic." Spock didn't reply. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry I told her, I just…I don't know. My life is easier when my senior staff is happy. Don't ask me to keep secrets from her without telling me why."

He nodded. "Understood. It will not happen again in the future."

* * *

The ship was wrapping up its week of surveys, and everyone was anxious to move on to their next assignment. After the shuttle returned that evening, they'd be heading out for new areas of Federation space.

"Captain, I'm picking up a distress signal," Ensign Raymond reported from his spot at the communications station on the bridge. "It…it's from our shuttle."

"Location?" Kirk asked.

"Approximately 100 million kilometers."

"Hail them."

Raymond did so, and then shook his head. "No answer."

"Lay in a course, Mr. Sulu. Full impulse."

"Yes, Captain."

The tiny ship was drifting lifelessly in space when they arrived. "I'm only detecting two life signs," Spock reported from the science station. The shuttle had left with a crew of four. "There is something else…gravimetric disturbances in the area."

"All stop," Kirk ordered. No sense in putting the Enterprise in danger, too. "Kirk to transporter room: can you beam them aboard?"

"I'm getting a lock on them, Captain," the crewmember at the controls responded. "Stand by." McCoy and his team were already waiting in the transporter room. When the two survivors re-materialized, both were unconscious on the pad. The CMO began to tend to the closer patient – Scotty – first while the other half of his team moved over to Uhura.

"It looks like he's suffering from decompression sickness," he observed from the results of a tricorder scan. "Come on, let's get them out of here and back to sickbay."

"Doctor," one of the others called. As McCoy joined them, he could see the blood coming from Nyota's ears.

"Damnit," he muttered under his breath. They didn't have a lot of time. "Come on, let's go!"

* * *

TBC...

Thanks so much for all of the responses I've received so far!


	4. Chapter 3

Scotty and Nyota were both put in sickbay's decompression chamber in an attempt to minimize the damage that would be done. Since they were both still unconscious, the rest of the crew had to try to piece together what had happened without any first-hand accounts. Kirk and Spock compared notes on what they'd found out so far while they made their way from the bridge to sickbay.

"The forward section of the Shuttle completely decompressed," Jim reported, looking at data on a PADD. Spock nodded.

"Scans revealed two significant hull breaches on the forward section, in addition to several smaller breaches."

"The rear compartment was sealed off with Uhura and Scotty inside, while Lieutenant Clark and Crewman Anderson were in the forward section. I want to know why they didn't make it to the rear as well."

"The investigation team is currently going over the data recorder from the shuttle. Among other things, they were directed to learn where the door was sealed from – the front or the rear control panel. If the rear panel was damaged, then someone would have had to remain in the forward section."

"Are there numbers yet on how quick this was happening?" Kirk asked.

Spock checked his PADD. "Given the size of the hull breaches, they would have had approximately twenty seconds before the pressurization dropped to a level that would cause a loss of consciousness."

The turbolift doors opened as they arrived on the correct deck. "Am I right that those gravimetric distortions you picked up caused this?"

"It would not be logical to select a cause this early in the investigation, before all possibilities have been equally considered."

"What other possibilities is the team looking at?"

"Given the fact that the two largest breaches were in the same area, failure of a component within the ship may also be possible."

"I want to know for certain. If there's a problem with our shuttlecraft, I want them grounded until it's taken care of. And if traveling through this area of space is going to kill people, then I want to set up beacons to warn other ships away."

"Agreed. The team will submit their preliminary findings to you at 2100 hours."

* * *

McCoy was waiting inside sickbay, ready to brief them on his latest patients. "We won't know the full extent of their injuries until they awaken," he explained. "We didn't see any evidence of paralysis or other serious physical injury, but Lieutenant Uhura will likely have hearing damage."

"Permanent?" Kirk asked.

"I don't know yet. I want to give the tissue of her eardrums a chance to heal on its own. That could take a few weeks."

"Weeks?" the Captain asked. "You can't regenerate it faster?"

"I'd rather hold off on that option. This isn't the same as patching up a cut. In order to minimize the damage to her hearing, it's better to try the natural way first…They'll be in the chamber for another few hours. I'll let you know once they're awake."

"I would like to stay," Spock asserted in a tone that neither Kirk nor McCoy dared to argue with.

* * *

The ship was changing over to the night shift by the time that Nyota awakened. Spock hadn't left sickbay once all evening. Scotty was already up and asking for his walking papers, but it wouldn't be that simple for the ship's communications officer.

When her eyes opened, she was puzzled to see the ceiling of sickbay, since she didn't immediately remember what had happened. A few images quickly flashed through her mind – red warning lights, broken panels and conduits, fire…it was all a haze.

As her vision cleared, she realized that Spock was sitting beside her and had quickly noticed that she was awake. She tried to speak, but her throat felt like sandpaper. "Hi," was all she was able to manage on a first attempt – but she didn't hear it. Her face drew in confusion. "Spock?" she asked, but again couldn't hear her own voice. As the fog of sleep quickly lifted from her brain, she realized that she couldn't hear anything else in the room around her, either – no machinery, no gentle hum of the engines, nothing. Fear shot through her body; what had happened? What was wrong with her? The universe had gone completely silent!

Spock gently put a hand on Nyota's shoulder as she tried to sit up, keeping her from moving too quickly in her weakened state. "I can't hear," she told him, her voice getting louder with each word. "I can't hear anything!" He said something, trying to stop her from getting up, but all she could see was that his mouth was moving. _Oh no, oh no, oh no..._

Their voices had gotten McCoy's attention, and he quickly approached with a PADD, which he put in Nyota's hands. She read the message that he'd scrawled on the screen in anticipation of her awakening: 'Calm down. You were in an accident with a shuttle, but you're going to be all right. Do you remember what happened?'

"It's kind of mixed up at the moment," she replied aloud, thinking hard. "We ran into…some anomaly. The shuttle started to decompress…My eardrums blew, didn't they?" McCoy nodded before taking the PADD back to write something else: 'The perforations should heal in a few weeks. You're lucky to be alive. Get some rest tonight and we'll run more tests in the morning.' Nyota nodded, and he left her and Spock alone.

"I don't like this," she commented, concentrating hard on whether she could hear the words at all. There was nothing.

Spock almost forgot and began speaking to her. He took the PADD and started to write something, but stopped mid-sentence. Exactly what was he supposed to say in this situation? At a total loss, he put the device down on the console by her bed and simply lay down beside her. Nyota curled up in his arms.

"Don't leave," she told him. "Please." He held her closer.

* * *

TBC...

A/N: I'm an engineer, not a doctor, so if I mess up the medical stuff - sorry!

A/N 2: Thanks again for all of the feedback that has been sent. I've been continually amazed to see through this site how huge of an impact this movie has had! I really don't think I've ever seen anything like it before (or maybe I just haven't been reading in the right categories). I'm very grateful for everyone who has shared suggestions for the story or just left a note about how much they liked the pairing or the movie.


	5. Chapter 4

By the morning, McCoy could see some evidence that her ears were beginning to heal, but it would take time before they knew what the effect on Nyota's hearing would be. Understanding that his patient was getting tired of being poked and prodded, he promised he had just one more test to do before letting her go back to her quarters.

He handed her a PADD that was preprogrammed with an audiology test and made sure the headphones were situated correctly. The instructions on the PADD had her touch a button on the screen whenever she could detect the sound being played.

Spock was watching them and McCoy moved to join the ship's first officer once Nyota had begun the test. "Did she sleep last night?" he asked the Vulcan.

"Better than I."

McCoy nodded. "I want her to do this test daily so we can track any improvements. And come back for daily scans to make sure she is healing and doesn't get any inner ear infections."

"Understood."

* * *

Once she was done with the tests, Spock walked Nyota back to her quarters. He was still at a loss on what he was supposed to say; the logical statements reminding her that the doctor believed it was temporary and that she was lucky to be alive at all seemed so incredibly inadequate and cold. If he didn't care so much about her, then maybe he would have said these things, but…as Nyota had told him, logic seemed to go out the window where love was concerned.

He grabbed the PADD that was on her table and scrawled out a message: 'I need to get a report from the investigation team. I will return as soon as I can. Will you be all right?'

As Nyota looked up at him, he was reminded of the fact that she was only 23 years old. She was trying to put on a brave face, but her eyes betrayed her, making her seem so young and vulnerable. He wished he could teach her how to cage that fear, to utilize parts of it for strength and put the rest out of her mind. But she wasn't Vulcan and did not have his training. Would he even want her to? Would she still be the woman he loved if she was more like him?

"I'll be fine," she told him, trying so hard to pretend things were normal. She was pretty sure she'd gotten the hang of speaking at a normal volume, even though she couldn't hear it to confirm. "Go," Nyota added when he hesitated. "I'm okay, really." Spock finally nodded and headed out the door.

Nyota looked around her quarters with a sigh. After so many months on the Enterprise, it was incredibly unsettling to not be able to hear all of the normal noises the ship the made – the engines droning, the hiss of the ventilation system circulating the air. Even her own footsteps across the floor. It was all quiet.

* * *

Spock was certain that he was about to get the fastest briefing in Starfleet history. The investigation team had been making good progress, and he wanted to know their results, but for the first time that he could recall, a detailed study into a major incident didn't interest him. Knowing what had happened wasn't going to change the results. Even after the case was closed, he would still be dealing with the aftermath. He hadn't felt this conflicted since his mother's death.

"We've found no evidence that any system on the shuttle spontaneously failed," Lieutenant McArthur, the team lead told him. "It looks like the gravimetric disturbances were responsible. The hull couldn't withstand the varying stresses being imposed."

"The captain wanted to deploy warning beacons if that was the case."

She nodded. "They're being prepared by the engineering team. We had a few other findings as well. The door between compartments was sealed from the forward section – the rear control panel had blown out."

Spock considered that; no matter what, at least one person would have had to die on the shuttle. "Have you found anything that would suggest why both the Lieutenant and Crewman were in the forward compartment?"

"The con was severely damaged. According to Dr. McCoy, Lieutenant Clark died of a large electrical shock." The pieces started to fall together, and the puzzle wasn't pretty.

"If she was incapacitated, then Crewman Anderson had to activate the door."

"Yes, Sir." Spock slowly nodded. What were the odds that Nyota would have been the person in the front compartment closest to that panel? How close did he come to losing her?

* * *

While Spock was gone, Nyota became acutely aware of how little off-time she'd had recently, especially off-time that she was spending alone: she had very little idea what to do with herself. After getting a shower and changing into comfortable clothes, she wandered through her small quarters trying to decide what to do. Her eyes finally landed on her small bookshelf, and she pulled out a novel she'd been meaning to finish ever since being assigned to the Enterprise in the first place.

Settling down on the couch by the window, she located the page with her bookmark and started reading. It had been so long, though, that she flipped back a few pages to remind herself of what had been happening in the story. That action gave her pause.

She couldn't hear the pages rustle. It was so simple, but it was important. She'd always liked real books as opposed to reading digital copies on a PADD, liked having something to hold and feel, smell and hear. Without one of those qualities, the book suddenly lost its appeal. As her frustration at the situation boiled over, she hurled it across the room. The fact that there was no satisfying thud as it slammed into the wall and then fell to the floor made tears sting at her eyes. And she felt stupid for crying. In all likelihood, this was temporary, and at least she was alive! But she felt completely cut off from the world – from normal – in the meantime.

Despite the fact that she'd spent the last several years of her life working to understand how languages worked and learning as many as she could, she'd never truly considered how important spoken language was. She took it for granted that she could understand what many of the people around her could not. Now…now things were different.

"Computer," she said aloud, pausing to give the system a chance to acknowledge her even though she couldn't hear it. "Play anthem of African Confederation. Set volume at level 5."

Her audio test in sickbay had revealed that she did still have hearing at high decibel ranges. Apparently, though, level 5 wasn't loud enough. "Computer, increase volume one level." She paused for a moment, trying to determine whether she could hear anything. "Increase volume," she ordered again. A few of the notes began to be within her range. "Computer, increase volume to level 8." It wasn't perfect, but she could finally hear it.

Her tears spilled as she retook her seat on the couch. Volume level 8. She could normally use level 2 or 3 if she wanted background music. Level 5 required raising your voice a bit to be clearly understood over the music. Level 8 was extreme.

Nyota was surprised to feel a hand on her shoulder, and looked up to see that Spock was beside her. The question of how he'd gotten into her quarters died on her lips. She obviously wouldn't have been able to hear the door chime, so he must have overridden the controls.

"Computer, stop playback," he called over the almost painfully-loud music. What had she been trying to do? Damaging what was left of her hearing wasn't going to help get things back to normal.

"I just wanted to hear something," she answered his unspoken question, knowing what he must have been thinking from the look on his face. "It's so…quiet. I just wanted to hear…"

He took the PADD from her table. 'You must give yourself time,' he wrote on the screen. 'Patience is not easy, but it is rewarded.'

* * *

TBC...


	6. Chapter 5

When Nyota woke up the next morning, she was slightly surprised to find that Spock wasn't beside her, as he'd been when she went to sleep. For a moment, she forgot and tried to listen for a sign that he was still in her quarters. But as she allowed herself to contemplate the quiet, she realized something: gentle vibrations were running through the bed. She sat up, putting her bare feet on the floor, and discovered that she could still feel it. The ship's engines making their power known. She was so used to the sound of Enterprise's systems that she'd never really noticed they had a feel, too. It was comforting. Maybe this new world she'd been thrown into wasn't quite so foreign, although she definitely didn't want to be a permanent resident.

Nyota pulled on a robe before heading out of the partitioned bedroom area and into the main living space. A smile crossed her face as she saw that Spock was sitting on the couch. "Morning," she told him. "I was wondering where you went. Thought you had some work to do."

He shook his head before handing her the PADD he'd been holding. She quickly scanned the screen. "Sign language?" she asked, her brows knitting in confusion. The language's use had been mostly phased out on Earth as medical science had advanced and artificial auditory organs were improved.

Spock took the PADD back and wrote a message for her. 'I thought it could be beneficial for us to have a method for basic communication without writing.' She looked back at the list he'd created; it included things like the alphabet and common objects.

Sitting down beside him on the couch, she kissed him soundly. "Thank you," she told him. "For everything. This…I wouldn't have even thought to do this."

* * *

They spent most of the morning together, going over the information Spock had collected. Eventually he needed to go put in a few hours on the bridge; Kirk had given a lot of leeway as far as the schedule for that week, but they still had a ship to run. Nyota decided to take a walk around the Enterprise and see if any of her friends were available for lunch in the mess hall.

Chekov was leaving main engineering when he saw Nyota in the hallway. "Uhura," he exclaimed. "Are you all right?" He then smacked his forehead as he realized. "Apologies," he continued to speak as he began writing on the PADD he was carrying. 'How are you?'

"I'm fine," she told him with a smile. "Wanted to get out of my quarters for a little bit, pretend things are normal."

'Have you eaten?' he wrote.

"Not yet. Do you want to get lunch?"

"Da," he replied with a nod.

* * *

They both got plates and found a corner table. It quickly became obvious that writing and eating at the same time wasn't going to work, so conversation was limited. Questions that required only a yes or no from Chekov worked best.

'Does it hurt?' he wrote down at one point, after they'd spent most of the meal avoiding talking about her condition. The look of apprehension on his face made her smile slightly.

"No," Nyota replied. "I guess it did at the time, but I don't really remember much about what happened on the shuttle. It's all a blur. But it doesn't hurt now."

He nodded before picking up the stylus once more. 'You are lucky, despite everything.'

"I'm starting to see the truth in that. I don't think I'll be as short-tempered with Jim the next time he gets impatient in a meeting where he doesn't speak the language – not being able to understand is really difficult."

He laughed. 'Speaking of the Captain,' he wrote, 'I should probably get to the bridge.'

Nyota nodded. "Thanks for eating with me," she said as they both got up.

Chekov realized about a second too late that the crewmembers at the table behind them were also getting up. Normally, Nyota would have been able to hear their voices or the sound of their chairs against the floor, but of course that wasn't possible this time. "Wait," the young Ensign tried to tell her, forgetting that it was no use. She and the crewman behind her bumped into each other, their trays both falling from their hands and the plates and cups breaking on impact. Caught completely off-guard, Nyota lost her balance as her leg bumped the chair and she ended up sitting on the floor.

Chekov quickly knelt beside her. "Are you all right?" he asked aloud, not caring that she couldn't hear since he could already see the answer to his own question. Blood ran from a large cut on her right hand onto the carpet.

* * *

McCoy was using a dermal regenerator to seal the cut on Nyota's palm when Spock came into sickbay, a look on his face that made Chekov take a step back further from the door. "What happened?" the Vulcan asked.

"Apparently the Lieutenant didn't think she was spending enough time in sickbay already," McCoy quipped without looking away from his work. "She'll be fine."

Spock's gaze shifted to Chekov. "You were with her?"

"Um, yes, Sir. We were having lunch. I tried to stop her, but I forgot…I'm sorry."

Nyota watched the silent conversation for a few minutes, wondering when someone was going to clue her in as to what was going on. It quickly became obvious that they weren't. "Hey!" she said, stopping them all in their tracks. "I'm sitting RIGHT HERE. I'm deaf, not unconscious. Don't talk about me in front of me."

McCoy hid a smirk as he finished treating her hand. He grabbed a PADD and scrawled out, 'Sorry. You're all set now. I don't want to see you back in here until tomorrow.'

She nodded. "I can live with that."

Chekov chose to use the doctor's departure as his own window to escape. He gave Nyota one more apologetic smile before heading out the door. That just left Spock. 'Are you all right?' he wrote on the PADD that McCoy had left.

"I'm fine, really. It was just a cut. You shouldn't have left in the middle of your shift."

'I was concerned for you,' he reasoned.

She smiled. "I'm okay, Spock, really. I was feeling good after this morning and wanted to get out for a little bit. Apparently I need to remember to look before I step."

He picked up the pen again. 'I'll take you back to your quarters.'

"No, go back to the bridge," she insisted. "I can manage on my own. I just need to be more careful." She could feel the change in herself; a day ago, an incident like the one she'd just had would have been a discouragement, but now it was a learning experience. She was determined to figure out how to adapt to her new normal, and welcomed the challenges along the way.

'You're certain?' he wrote, hesitant to leave. Was she really all right, or was she trying to get rid of him? Maybe he'd been doing too much, or done something wrong? He'd mainly been making guesses on how to help her.

Nyota nodded. "I'm fine. I'll see you later."

* * *

TBC...


	7. Chapter 6

As the night wore on, Nyota was surprised that Spock never came by her quarters. She'd assumed that he would come over after he finished his time on the bridge and they could get dinner together, but maybe he was busy. After all, he'd been spending a lot of time with her over the past few days. As she sat on her couch to wait, her still-recovering body decided that she needed some rest whether she wanted it or not – she ended up falling asleep.

Her sleep was hardly peaceful, however. She was plagued by images of the shuttle accident. Her memory had still been fragmented, and McCoy had doubted whether she would ever remember, but apparently the events lived untarnished in her subconscious.

They'd been on their way back to Enterprise from the Tellarite freighter after a successful day of repairing the ship. Everyone had been tired from hours spent arguing with the ship's crew. The captain had even praised Scotty's ability to come up with quick retorts.

"There better be food cooked in the mess hall," Crewman Anderson commented as he sat in the co-pilot's seat, his feet up on the con. "I could eat about three rations."

Lieutenant Clark smiled from her place piloting the ship. "Don't worry. Chef will take care of us."

They probably should have been paying more attention to their route. Since the Enterprise was traveling between survey sites, the shuttle was taking a different route back than the one they'd left on. They should have been watching for surprises. But they were tired and hungry and didn't notice until far too late that something was wrong.

The first jolt got their attention. Inertial dampers did their best to smooth the ride, but everyone still felt the bump. "What was that?" Anderson asked as he took his feet down.

Clark checked the sensors. "I'm picking up spatial disturbances in the area…Hang on!"

The second jolt was much harder; Nyota almost fell from her seat. Alarms began to play and lights started flashing. The third jolt was harder than the second, and was almost immediately followed by a fourth. The con lit up like a fireworks display, sending a charge through Clark's still-touching fingers. Her muscles went totally rigid as she seized violently. Not even thinking of the danger, Nyota reached for her. Scotty grabbed her arm to stop her.

"You don't want to do that, lass," he told her. Ignoring the bucking of the ship, Anderson reached for a control panel on the wall that would cut power to the controls. He didn't get a chance – the next jolt plunged them all into darkness, power to EVERYTHING temporarily lost. Nyota felt her feet leave the floor as the artificial gravity cut out. Air began to forcibly escape her lungs through her unintentionally-open mouth – they were decompressing. Pain lanced through her head, and she put both hands over her ears in a vain attempt to lessen it.

"Where's the breach?" Scotty yelled to Anderson over the shrieking alarms as the secondary power systems kicked in and the lights came back on. The other man didn't have to answer; a few small loose items – such as extra clothing – began moving toward the forward-left bulkhead. They needed to get to the aft compartment, and fast.

Nyota had blood running down the sides of her face and looked decidedly disoriented, so Scotty grabbed her and pulled her along with him into the rear, leaving Anderson to get Clark. "She doesn't have a pulse!" the crewman reported of their pilot.

Scotty wasn't surprised, but they'd have to worry about that later. First priority was getting the compartment sealed once they were all inside. He reached for the control panel to transfer primary control of the ship to the aft compartment, but it blew out in the same instant, burning his hand. The fire flickered and sputtered due to the low oxygen content in the air around it.

They were running out of time. Nyota felt like she was watching the scene around her in slow motion. Everything was spinning; the lack of oxygen and damage to her inner ears combined to take her feet out from underneath her. She watched from her hands and knees on the deck as Anderson abandoned his efforts to get Clark out of her chair. Stepping over to the console on the right side of the forward compartment, he hit three buttons.

"No!" Scotty tried to get out, knowing what the other man was doing, but it was too late – the bulkhead between the sections slammed shut.

* * *

Nyota shot awake, her heart racing like she'd just run a marathon. How had she forgotten? How could she watch someone die for her and forget it? How had it not been instantly engraved in her mind like it was now?

Wiping her tears, she stood up and activated the comm. system. "Uhura to Spock," she said, knowing full well that she'd have no way of knowing whether he answered or not. "Can you come to my quarters? Please?"

It took him all of two minutes to get there. Her tone had concerned him greatly – had something happened? That concern wasn't lessened when she instantly went into his arms as he came in the door. He just held her for a long moment, unable to ask her anything (and unsure what to say even if he could). Finally, as she began to calm down, he sat down on the couch with her and picked up the PADD that was on the table. 'What happened?' he wrote.

"I remembered. I remembered what happened on the shuttle."

He sighed. 'There was nothing you could have done.'

"I could have been paying more attention! Maybe we would have seen the gravimetric disturbances sooner, maybe we could have avoided them – "

He held up a hand, stopping her. 'Maybe there would have been an even worse outcome. I'm sorry I wasn't here.'

"Were you working?" He shook his head. "Why didn't you come over?"

'I wasn't sure if I was helping you or making things worse.'

"What?"

He hesitated before scribbling out an elaboration. 'I have felt very useless. There was nothing I could do to change the situation. Logically, there are many things that are outside of my ability, but helping you should not be.'

"You were helping," she insisted. "Just by being here, even when we weren't saying anything. I mean, I know how you felt, I guess, because I've been in the same position. When your mother was killed, I wasn't sure if I was supposed to say something, or not say anything, or just leave you alone. But I do need you. You're my anchor in this."

Spock slowly nodded as he picked up the stylus once more. 'I will not leave again unless you want me to.'

Nyota smiled. "I'll never want you to."

* * *

TBC...

**A/N 2: Wow, over 100 reviews! Thanks to everyone who's been following along with the story. I've been having a lot of fun with this, and I hope you have, too.**


	8. Chapter 7

Two weeks later, Nyota was beginning to improve. Although normal speech was still out, the threshold for her hearing was starting to get lower. Loud noises, like the ship's alarms or her re-programmed door chime were within her range.

It had only taken about a week to become bored out of her mind in her quarters, so she'd started performing limited duty shifts on the bridge. She was surprised by how quickly she'd been able to pick up lip-reading, but attributed it to her Academy training – particularly the phonology lessons given by her favorite teacher.

When Spock arrived at his quarters one night, he was surprised to find that there was already someone in them. Nyota smiled from her spot on the floor, setting out dishes of food. "What's this?" he asked her, using signs.

"Dinner," she replied with a mischievous little smile. "I thought we could have a picnic, like we used to in your quarters at the Academy." He remembered those dinners well – they had initially started off as quick dinners during study sessions that ran late, but as their relationship progressed, it was their favorite way to spend a stolen bit of time together.

* * *

After their plates and glasses were empty, they sat together on the couch, both watching the stars go by as Nyota laid in Spock's embrace. "Do you remember the first time you kissed me?" she asked, looking up at him to watch his response.

"I believe that it was YOU who kissed ME."

She shook her head. "I had kissed you before that, on the cheek. But I'm talking about the first time you kissed me back."

"I was aware of what you were referring to," he replied, his expression as close as Vulcan could come to a smirk. "I never would have put myself in such a position without coercion."

Her eyes widened, a look of mock indignation crossing her face. "I didn't hear you complaining at the time! Actually, I take that back – after about ten seconds, when your Vulcan brain kicked back in, I heard nothing BUT complaints."

"A personal relationship with a student was a highly illogical decision," he pointed out. "Perhaps the most of any I have ever made."

"Have you ever regretted it?" she asked, her face suddenly serious.

He shook his head. "Never." Nyota smiled. "Do you still wish to be married when Enterprise returns to Earth?"

"Of course…don't you?"

"Yes…Although I have begun to consider what could happen before that point."

She thought about that for a moment. "You mean, what could happen to one of us," she surmised. "After the shuttle accident."

"When my mother was killed…there were many things I had not asked her, or things I was uncertain if she knew. I would not want the same to be true with us. I don't want there to be any regrets."

Nyota smiled slightly. "I understand. Sometimes we forget about the danger of our jobs. Enemy ships aside, space is an unforgiving place...I'll make you a deal – once I'm back to normal, one of the first things I want to hear is our wedding vows."

He nodded. "That is agreeable."

* * *

Enterprise's next stop was Earth Outpost 8, the last in a chain of outposts stationed in an asteroid field at the edge of the Romulan Neutral Zone. For varying reasons, Starfleet hadn't been able to get a ship out to the station in months; the 20-person crew was low on food and supplies and in need of help with repairs of a laundry list of items ranging from their food sequencers to their long-range communications array.

"Approaching EO8, Captain," Chekov reported from his position on the bridge as the ship neared the station.

"Thank you. Nice work, Mr. Sulu." The helmsman nodded; dodging through the asteroid field to reach the outpost had put all of Sulu's fancy flying skills on display.

"Thank you, Captain."

The communications panel lit up; Nyota was seated at it, along with Lieutenant Raymond. Kirk had insisted on having someone with her during her shifts, just to make sure everything went smoothly. She still got tired easily and wasn't always able to catch everything that was going on. However, even a first-year cadet would know what the information on the screen meant. "We're being hailed, Captain," she told Kirk.

"On screen." She transferred the incoming message. "I'm Captain Jim Kirk of the Enterprise."

The man on the screen nodded in acknowledgement. "I am Lieutenant Commander Howell, commander of Outpost 8. It's good to see you, Captain."

Kirk frowned slightly; that wasn't who he'd been expecting. "Where is Commander Ramon?"

"I regret to inform you that the Commander and four others were killed in an accident while attempting to repair one of our nearby mining stations."

"Why wasn't this reported to Starfleet command?"

"Our long-range communications were down. We were barely able to contact the next outpost and have them relay our request for assistance. We are very grateful to your crew."

Kirk nodded. "We'll be sending shuttles to the outpost shortly to begin repairs."

"Thank you. Howell out."

Kirk was about to head for the turbolift, intending to join one of the away teams, but Nyota caught his arm. "Something isn't right," she told him.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't explain it, but…watching the Commander, there was just something…off."

"That's not all that helpful, Uhura. Their crew's been through a lot, and we've been sent to help. Unless you can give me something more specific than a feeling, we're sending our shuttles over." She shook her head; it was nothing concrete, just a sixth sense she'd been developing for interpreting non-verbal communication. Kirk nodded and continued on his way.

"What are you thinking?" Spock asked as she returned to her station.

"He's…hiding something. There's something else going on here. Do you believe me?"

"Your instincts are rarely wrong, but cannot be acted upon without physical evidence."

She sighed, sitting back down in her chair. "A simple 'yes' would have been enough."

* * *

TBC...

**A/N: Thanks again for all the feedback! I had a bit of a writer's block after the last chapter, but reading your reviews was very inspirational. I've now got some direction for at least the next two chapters.**


	9. Chapter 8

The crew was busy for the next day working at the station. There was a lot to get done and Shuttles were constantly ferrying back and forth between the ship and the outpost with people and supplies. Usually, the crewmembers going back and forth were from the Enterprise, so Kirk was surprised when he got a request for an audience from the outpost's communication officer.

"What do you need, Ensign?" he asked the blonde woman as she came onto the bridge.

"I wanted to request reassignment, Sir. I know this isn't the proper channel, but with the communications on the outpost down, I haven't been able to send word to Starfleet."

"I assume you have your commanding officer's approval?" Kirk asked.

She looked away. "That is why I want to be reassigned, Sir."

"I see…I'll need to speak with Commander Howell."

"I'd rather you didn't, Sir."

"Don't worry, Ensign. I'm sure something can be worked out. Dismissed." She nodded and left.

Nyota hadn't been trying to eavesdrop – it was hard to do when 'hearing' the conversation required staring at the participants – but from what she HAD been able to see, her curiosity was piqued.

What was going on onboard that outpost?

* * *

They had access to EO8's systems, so once Nyota was off-shift, she got the computer to download the station's logs for the last few months. She was surprised by how quickly that action was completed.

"There are barely any entries," she reported to Kirk when she visited his quarters later. "Three months, and there's hardly even one per person per week."

"You should see the list of systems being repaired that I got from Scotty. I think they've had their hands full."

"Everything was relatively normal until Commander Ramon's death. That's when the log entries stopped and – from the computer's records – the rate of deterioration of the outpost picked up."

"Okay, so maybe nobody's going to be giving Commander Howell a promotion anytime soon. You have to admit, though, that he's kept the station running under some pretty terrible circumstances."

She shook her head. "There's something else going on. I just don't know what yet."

Kirk shrugged. "Find it and I'll do something about it."

* * *

But she couldn't find anything. Many of the outpost's records had been lost due to computer failure, and what she COULD find didn't point to anything conclusive.

"Am I going crazy?" she asked Spock as they got ready for bed that night in her quarters. "I can't find anything to back up my feeling, but I just know there has to be something."

"Logically, there would be no evidence if there were no issue to discover. However, the reverse is not necessarily true."

She sighed. "Do you always have to be so logical?"

"Would you prefer I act solely on emotion?"

Nyota thought about that. "On second thought, no. We already have one Jim Kirk on the ship. But sometimes it's okay to just humor me and say I'll find something even if you think I'm losing it."

"I do not think you are 'losing it'. But I know that if the evidence you are seeking did exist, it may now be lost."

She shook her head. "No, I don't believe that. I just haven't looked in the right place yet. This time, I'm going to find the clues before something happens."

Spock caught her arm. "Whether you do or not, you are remaining with your convictions. That is all anyone can ask."

When he returned from the bathroom a few minutes later, Nyota was sitting on the bed, lost in thought. "What is it?" he asked her, assuming she was still contemplating the mystery of EO8. However, her musings had turned to a more personal matter.

"What are we going to do about our quarters?"

"One of us should eventually give up ours," he replied.

"When?"

"Not tonight," he deadpanned, and she smiled.

"No, not tonight. But…that'll make it official. I mean, so will being married, obviously, but if one of us gives up our quarters then it goes on record somewhere in the Starfleet database that we're together."

"I am relatively certain that it is already recorded somewhere in the database in one or more of Jim's log entries."

"Don't be difficult. Do you think someone's going to do the math and pitch a fit?"

"I'm not concerned. If it happens, we will deal with it."

She slowly nodded. They both got under the blankets and Spock turned off the light. Silence reigned in the room for a long moment before Nyota spoke up again. "You're moving in here, by the way. I'm not giving up my quarters."

He almost answered, but realized she wouldn't have been able to see his face in the dark in order to understand the response. And since there wasn't a PADD anywhere nearby to write it down, Nyota got the last word. Almost as if it had been planned…

* * *

On duty on the bridge the following day, Nyota was surprised when she got a message from Scotty, who was on the outpost. He knew about her concerns with the station (she'd gotten his help in understanding some of the details the computer had recorded about their systems) and now wanted her to look into any records available from the communications system.

"I hadn't checked into it," she told him, via the video console at her station. "Commander Howell reported that long range comm. had been down for a couple months."

"Aye, a few well placed charges will do that," he replied.

She frowned. "Charges…as in explosives?"

"The thing's a mess – I can't confirm whether it was destroyed by an explosion or whether that was the end-result after a debris strike. But I thought it might give you a new direction."

She nodded. "Thank you."

In comparison to the crew's log entries, the communications records were surprisingly lengthy. How had a system that had supposedly been down for nine weeks been used only four days prior? There were several highly encrypted written messages that Nyota got the computer to work on cracking while she looked at something else.

Sifting through the records, she found the transmissions that had been sent to Outpost 7 requesting assistance for the station. Two calls had been sent the same day – the first was only a damaged fragment, mentioning that the station needed immediate help and sent from the communications officer. The second was intact, with the Lieutenant Commander clarifying that they had suffered several systems failures – including their main communications array – and required help. But both messages had been sent USING the main communications array.

A few indicators on her terminal began to flash as the computer finished its un-encryption algorithms. As she opened the first message, a feeling like ice water ran down her spine – it was in Romulan. She quickly checked through them all and found the same thing. The most recent message was especially chilling.

WE HAVE SOME GUESTS, SO WAIT FOR MY SIGNAL. MY COMMUNICATIONS OFFICER CAN BE YOUR FIRST CASUALTY; AFTER SO MANY MONTHS OF WORK, SHE FELT THE NEED TO BRING STARFLEET'S ATTENTION HERE ON THE EVE OF THE INVASION.

* * *

TBC...

**A/N: Thanks once more for all of the feedback. I'm still amazed by the reaction to this movie.**


	10. Chapter 9

James Kirk was not a happy man.

It was a rare occasion that someone made him look like a fool (normally, he could take care of that just fine all by himself), but when it happened, there was usually hell to pay. His favorite example of that was his stepfather's car; young Jim hadn't been able to sit down for a month, but that car was gone forever, so it was completely worth it. It was unfortunate that Lieutenant Commander Howell didn't have a 300-year-old convertible to drive into a gorge.

He did, however, have an outpost to command, and Kirk was more than happy to take that away. The tale of life aboard Earth Outpost 8 had only gotten sadder as Uhura did more digging into the station's computer system. Apparently the 'mining accident' had been more of a silencing than an accident. Until someone was able to sort out who was in on Howell's idea, and who had gone along for the ride to save their own life, the entire crew of the station would get to spend some time together in the Enterprise's brig.

Scotty set up direct transports of most of EO8's crew straight from the station to the brig, but Kirk wanted to go collect Howell himself. There were special circles of hell for men like him, and he was almost sad that Earth didn't allow capital punishment.

He pushed the control pad for the door to the commander's office and waited for his reply of, "Enter." Howell looked up as the Captain entered the room – and a look of puzzlement crossed his face when he saw the three members of the security team that had accompanied him. "What can I do for you, Captain?"

"Trust me, you don't want an answer to that question. Get up."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. When you destroyed your communications array, you should have made sure the records went with it."

Howell's eyes got big, and he reached for something on his computer terminal, but one of the security officers raised his phaser. "I wouldn't test him if I were you," Kirk warned. "It's not set on stun." The commander lifted his hands in surrender. Kirk nodded to the guards and they hauled him out of his seat and through the door.

* * *

Back on the Enterprise, they still had to deal with what Howell had started. "How many Romulan ships are we dealing with?" Kirk asked.

"I am detecting three…no, four ships on the other side of the neutral zone," Chekov reported. "There may be many more beyond our sensor range."

"Probably. Hail them," Kirk ordered.

Nyota obliged. "No answer."

"Oh, they're listening, though," he said as he got out of his chair. She left the channel open. "This is Captain James T. Kirk offering greetings from the USS Enterprise and the United Federation of Planets. I hear you had your hearts set on a face-to-face meeting, and I'm fine with that. If you'd like to breach the neutral zone and enter Federation space, feel free – but I can guarantee you that my ship will be the last thing you ever see. End transmission."

"I understand your fondness for this vessel," Spock spoke up, "But do you truly believe that she would be victorious outnumbered four – or more – to one?"

Kirk grinned. "It's called 'a bluff', Spock. They're not coming over here without knowing if we have backup. A surprise attack was their advantage. And if it was three to one, then hell yeah I'd put my money on the Enterprise!"

"The ships are withdrawing," Chekov reported.

Kirk nodded, turning to the communications station. "Uhura, get a message to Command. Looks like we're going to need to step up border patrols out here for the foreseeable future."

She nodded. "Yes, Captain."

"Oh," he added as he stopped by her console, "And nice work. I'm glad we're on the same side; you'd be dangerous otherwise."

She smiled. "Thank you, Sir."

* * *

That night, Spock officially conceded defeat and started moving some of his things from his quarters to Nyota's. They would tell Kirk (and via the grapevine, everyone else on the ship) about their engagement in the morning.

"I will get the rest tomorrow," he decided after finishing putting away the box of books and other small items that he'd brought over.

She smiled from her spot on the bed, already in her nightclothes. "I can live with that. Thank you for agreeing to this."

"It did not matter to me where we lived, as long as we were both there." Nyota laughed. "I'm proud of you."

"For what?"

"For having a keen eye for sincerity. And for being who you are, standing by what you believe."

"I had to do it. There were a couple people who I owed the effort to." Spock was quiet. "You're going to tell me to let it go, aren't you?"

"No. Past experiences can drive future successes – so long as you don't allow them to leave you trapped in that past."

Nyota considered that for a long moment. "Logically, I know we can't win every battle, but I wish we didn't have to lose good people for no reason."

"As do I."

He finished getting ready for bed, too, and turned off the light. "Goodnight," she quietly said as they curled up together.

"Goodnight," Spock replied.

Quiet fell in the room, before Nyota suddenly sat up. "Say that again," she demanded.

He frowned. "What?"

She closed her eyes, trying to ensure that her mind wasn't playing tricks on her. "Just say something, say anything."

"I do not understand," Spock told her, and was even more puzzled when she kissed him.

"I could hear you," she replied with a smile from ear to ear. "I mean really hear you, and understand it! Finally, after all this time…"

He returned her kiss and echoed her sentiment, "Finally."

* * *

TBC...

**A/N: I've decided that there's going to be one more chapter to this story, but I'm already working on a sequel. Thanks again to everyone who's sent feedback!**


	11. Epilogue: the Wedding

McCoy tapped the panel by the door to Nyota and Spock's quarters and waited for an answer. When the door slid open, he had to pick his jaw up off of the floor.

Nyota smiled at the reaction, hoping that her soon-to-be-husband would have a similar one. "You like?" she asked, indicating the long white dress that she was wearing. It was simple, with thin straps and an empire waist, but elegant. Her hair was pulled up in an elaborate bun with a few curled tendrils hanging loose.

McCoy finally got his tongue working again. "It's a good thing you've got an escort," he told her, making her laugh. "You look beautiful, Uhura, absolutely beautiful."

"Thank you."

"You ready to do this? There's a crowd in the mess hall that's liable to get antsy pretty quick."

She nodded. "Let's go."

* * *

In the mess hall, Spock and Kirk were waiting with several of the couple's friends from the ship. "I still say that you shouldn't get married without having a best man," Kirk was telling him. "It's bad luck or something."

"The most logical candidate for the position is otherwise occupied at the moment," Spock replied.

"So pick the next guy. Who's going to give the toast at your dinner?"

"I was unaware that that responsibility fell to a single individual."

"Well, no, it doesn't, but the best man always makes a big toast."

"Even if I had selected someone, would there be any way to stop you from making a statement?"

Kirk considered that. "Probably not."

Spock nodded. "Then whether or not I have a best man during the ceremony does not matter."

The doors opened, and everyone turned to look. As recorded music began playing through the overhead speakers, McCoy led Nyota inside. Kirk didn't even try to hide his reaction. "You are a lucky, lucky man," he muttered to his friend. Spock was fully aware.

Nyota smiled at her fiancé as she stopped beside him. He took her hand and they both turned to face Kirk as he began to speak.

"Since the days of the first wooden vessels, all ship captains have had a special privilege: that of uniting two people in the bonds of matrimony. And so, we are all here today, in accordance with our laws and many beliefs, to see Nyota Uhura and Spock pledge their eternal commitment to each other…"

* * *

The ceremony went off without a hitch, as did the celebration dinner afterwards. McCoy was the first to stand and offer a toast to the couple.

"Never thought I'd be the 'father of the bride'," he commented. "I unfortunately do not have adorable embarrassing stories to share about Uhura as a child, but I could share a few about her Academy days…" Several people cheered. "One comes to mind involving a space-jumping incident – how's that ankle, by the way?" he asked her, earning a glare in response. "I'm just kidding. She always was an exceptional student, an exceptional officer, and I wish you both all the best."

Chekov was next. "It is old tradition in Russia that when first toast is made, someone will declare that champagne is bitter. The only way to sweeten it is for bride and groom to share kiss." That statement earned a few wolf-whistles and other teasing calls. They indulged the crowd and kissed, which received a raucous round of applause. Chekov was laughing as he continued, "My hope for you is that your love will sweeten the difficulties of life and you will be very happy together. _Za molodykh_!" (For the newlyweds!)

Scotty, Sulu, and a few others shared their own best wishes before Kirk stood up. "I guess it's my turn," the Captain proclaimed. "I already got to do a lot of talking earlier, so I'll keep it brief. To two of the best friends a guy could have – congratulations and good luck. A new adventure's just beginning and I hope you enjoy the ride."

* * *

FIN.

A/N 1: Again, thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who has left feedback. Especially to the ones who had comments after every chapter and those who have followed me around between different fandoms. I really, really appreciate it. And if you haven't left a message before, now's a great time! :-) I'll be starting to post the sequel to this story soon; it's titled "Blood and Water."

A/N 2: The beginning of the wedding ceremony was adapated from the TOS episode 'Balance of Terror' (1x08).


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